ashes to ashes
by Nintendian
Summary: He whispers silent prayers, standing before a row of graves. - Red & Pikachu, and his Pokémon.


**warning: this contains character deaths.** i don't know why i like to write so many dark and sad fics, seriously.

anyway... this is kind of depressing, just warning you now. _and I don't own Pokémon. _

* * *

_ashes, ashes, we all fall down_

* * *

This can't be happening. He doesn't believe it.

But when he looks down at frost-bitten hands, or raw, exposed skin as white as a ghost, he thinks he knows that the inevitable is coming. His breath is coming in small, short puffs that dissolve in the freezing air as quickly as they are born. Frenzied bouts of shivering come and go. It seems as if his soul is slowly fading, drifting away from his own body.

In another world, this is regarded as simply a joke. He is Red, the boy with the fire red eyes, the champion, undefeatable.

He can't be dying right now.

It's nothing more than a chase, a game, he is trying to escape the clutches of death. So far and yet so near. In his arms is a small yellow creature, the ever-present electricity in its cheeks now gone. The Pokémon's body is limp.

_Stay with me, _Red begs in a whisper, too devoid of strength to speak. His other Pokémon gather around him solemnly, almost like a funeral cortege. The howling wind echoes throughout the mountain like a dirge, draining the warmth of both Trainer and Pokémon, stealing their life force and then whisking away with a mocking cackle. Even Charizard's perpetually burning tail has been slowly been smothered by the numbing snowflakes.

So cold, so freaking _cold_.

.

Even in the cave, sheltered from the eternal blizzard raging outside, Red's last vestiges of warmth are being sucked away, and he watches helplessly as his Venusaur falls prey to the hungry, demanding arms of everlasting sleep. Tears, mixed with frost, spill down his cheeks and splash onto the rocky, cold ground. His arms wrap around his fallen Pokémon, cradling his head against its large pink flower, covered in ice. After that, Snorlax gradually stops shuddering, and then comes Blastoise.

He whispers silent prayers, his gaze blank and unseeing. He is standing above his Pokémon's graves.

It isn't too long before Lapras and Charizard follow their friends to whatever afterlife awaits, and Red is left with only his first partner, Pikachu. Despite the pain of his frozen hands and the atrophying of his muscles, he manages to drag his beloved Pokémon to the snow outside, blowing on his fingers whenever they begin to freeze up again. Although his breath is as cold as ice.

He doesn't care. He only has one thought.

_My dear warriors...where are you fighting now?_

.

A scream is ripped from his lips as he is flung into the snow at the edge of the cliff. He and Pikachu are surrounded by wild Pokémon, amazingly strong and alive despite the harsh, biting snowstorm. Pikachu has staggered to its feet, growling, cheeks sparking with electricity.

An Ursaring growls and charges forward, and that's when Red is swept into the last Pokémon battle of his life. He's fought countless battles, but this one is undeniably the hardest, as he is alone save for Pikachu. Blood sprays the snow, claws flash, teeth glint, and finally he can't bear to see his defenseless Pokémon torn apart any longer.

"Thunder!"

With a final effort, Pikachu obeys. Lightning bolts rain down from the clouds, and while they are too weak to do much damage, they are enough to scare all the wild Pokémon off, back into the cave where they belong.

Red manages an exhausted smile, and gathers Pikachu into his arms as it stutters and flops into the snow with utter fatigue.

.

He _was _Red, the Pokémon Master, but now all that's left is a ghost. He can take down all the other champions themselves with simple ease, but that all seems so long ago, in a different life. Now, he's never felt so weak, so _defenseless._ He can feel death creeping up on him, ready to spring, dig its icy fingernails into his neck. He's waiting for the world to drift away, become dark and still forever.

He is lying, collapsed in the snow, fearing every breath will be his last. Crismon stains the pure white snow around him, his own blood and that of his own Pokemon. Telltale claw marks are ripped into Blastoise's skin, as well as Lapras and the rest. Finally Red can't bear to gaze upon his Pokemon's wounds any longer, and turns his head away, tears glinting on his cheeks.

This is not how things are supposed to end, his body completely frozen on a mountain on the top of the world. At least he will fall with his Pokémon, gathered around him in a ragged semicircle, their bodies still and unmoving. They fought together all throughout their whole lives and now they'll die together.

A pitiful squeak catches his attention. Pikachu.

_Pikachu...wait for me..._

His best friend, his longest partner, is ready to die. This can't be happening. Red screams with all his remaining might into the sky, and his voice echoes once and then disappears along with all his lost Pokémon's memories. Icy tears make their way down his cheeks, biting and piercing the raw skin. His body sinks into the snow, and he doesn't care a bit when the biting chill crawls up his unprotected arms and legs, only covered by thin, worn-out denim.

_If you're dying, I'll come with you._

He can feel his life force draining away, along with the will to live. His head collapses into the snow, and he's sobbing bloody, frosted tears. The world is slowly fading, turning to complete darkness around him. His eyes begin to shut on their own, against his will. Red snaps them open just in time to see Pikachu twitch once in his arms, a final feeble struggle, and then go still.

_Take me with you._

He closes his eyes to a world of flurrying snowflakes.

* * *

_my pokémon, we fight together for eternity, infinity and beyond._

_and now, we will fly all the way home..._


End file.
